I live in the part of the United States that typically misses what many other parts receive in bucket loads: snow. So I was a wee bit skeptical when I started hearing weather reports last weekend that a snowpocalypse was heading my way. I dutifully checked several weather reports and lo and behold, all of them had that lovely little snowflake action for many of this week’s days. Wow! A snowstorm! Yippee!!!
I think we got about 20 flakes and some heavy frost out of the deal.
For nine years, I made Minnesota my home. It introduced me to many of the finer things in life, although I would be lying if I didn’t put decent wine near the top of that list. What can I say? When I arrived in the Land of You Betcha, I had no qualms with drinking the stuff in the box. Heck, it was a step up from the Boone’s Ferry. But Minnesota also turned me in to a lover of The Prairie Home Companion and The Red Green Show. To which you all pause and say, “and….?”
Well, it appears that right along with Red Green, I too must extol the virtues of duct tape. Obviously my concern is not with whether women are going to find me handy versus handsome. (For the uninitiated, the line is “if the women don’t find ya handsome, they should at least find ya handy.’)
I have, in my tenure as a home owner and previous college student, found duct tape to be marvelously handy at all kinds of things. But I have just recently found my new favorite use for duct tape. And no, it isn’t a RFID shielding wallet.
Duct tape is awesome for minuscule splinter removal.
See, when you get to be pushing 42, you can’t push much more in certain situations. So there is no way in hell I can either 1) see the splinter on the outside of my left foot, or 2) reach the splinter on the outside of my of left foot. Both activities necessitates a level of vision and flexibility I no longer possess. But I do possess a giant roll of handy-dandy duct tape.
Works like ‘lectric!
I spent nine years in Minnesota and two words have permanently been altered in my vocabulary: hotdish and bars. If you are not a mid-westerner, you may not fully appreciate the nuances of the Minnesotan “hotdish and bars” kind of dietary restrictions, so let me explain.
Hotdish describes any casserole-type concoction you can bind together with a can of condensed soup, cream of mushroom being the favorite. And bars would be cookies. Not bar cookies per se, cookies. These are the classic hallmarks of life in Minnesota. Oh sure, there’s the lefsa and lukefisk, but most transplants from the lovely land of ten thousand lakes are going to forego the “fish packed in lye” for other yummy items.
So if a group of transplanted Minnesotans were to get together for a Super Bowl party that didn’t include the Minnesota Vikings, they just might be inspired to celebrate the Super Bowl and what might have been with a festive Tater Tot Hotdish and yummy Toffee Bars. Throw in some pickled herring and jello salad, and you’ve got some happy folks regardless of the lack of purple showing at the Sun Life Stadium.